


Boggart

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Major Character Death but only in chpt 2, So only read the first one if you want to leave happy, can be read with Johnlock goggles (but I wouldn't advise it- it makes it more painful)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would John's boggart be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry

My wand trembles in my hand, no longer possessing any power- it is merely a thin bit of wood. A pool of blood spreads slowly across the floor, inching its way towards me. Sherlock's body lies in the centre of the pool, limp and unmoving. Those eyes, blue to match his house colours, stare accusingly at me. He is empty. He is gone.  
My breath catches in my throat as I stutter the spell.  
"R-r-riddikulus!"  
Nothing happens. He remains the same, and he remains gone. I feel a tear drip from my chin- when did I start crying?- and my hands are shaking so much I nearly drop my wand. A hand touches my shoulder and I jump backwards. Sherlock- the other Sherlock, the real Sherlock- is standing behind me, looking at me with concern.  
"Are you okay?" he whispers. I shake my head, turning to hug him as fresh tears begin streaming down my face. I need him to hold me, I need to know that he's there, but he pushes me away and turns me so that I have no choice but to face the boggart once again. I struggle against him but he holds me firm, pulling out his own wand and standing beside me.  
"Shall we do it together?" he asks quietly. I swallow my tears and nod, reaching for his hand. His long fingers wrap around mine, reassuring me that he's still there.   
"On three," I murmur. He nods his agreement.  
"One, two, three-"  
"Riddikulus," we say together and with a sharp crack, the body disappears. The instant it is gone he gathers me in a hug, whispering in my ear.   
"John, it's gone. It was never real. I'm still here. See-" He takes my hand and places it against his chest, letting me feel the beating of his heart. I am dimly aware that the beats are faster than usual- he was just as scared as I was- but all I really care about is that he's there. I'm sobbing uncontrollably now, my whole body shaking. He holds me close, his arms safe and warm and, most importantly, real. It takes me several minutes to come back under control and even then he does not let me go. He just keeps holding me. Despite his mask of intelligence, he does care about me, and I feel the same towards him. That's a Gryffindor's biggest flaw- we love too easily but with all our hearts, because we never think for a second that it might not end well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH  
> And I'm sorry

My eyes flicker open, taking a while to adjust to the near-total blackness in the dormitory. What woke me up? I hear a noise from downstairs, so I make my way cautiously into the common room.   
"Lumos," I mutter under my breath. The end of my wand lights instantly, illuminating the dark room. A dark shape is slumped in the middle of the floor, and I walk closer to have a look. I see what it is and stumble backwards, a cry catching in my throat. Dark curls matted with blood, sightless eyes, Ravenclaw blue shining on his robes- Sherlock's body. "No- No-" I gasp, holding my wand tightly. "No- Riddikulus, RIDDIKULUS! Please- please, Sherlock..."  
It isn't working. This time it's real, I know it is. I kneel beside him, sobbing.  
My yells have brought the others down from the dormitories. I am faintly aware of gasps coming from the boys, some of the girls screaming. I can dimly hear one of the prefects barking orders at people.   
"Fetch McGonagall! Quickly! And somebody keep John away from him!"  
Strong hands, dozens of them, grab my arms and my shoulders to pull me away, but my grief is stronger than all of them and all they can do is hurt me more. I crouch by his side, pulling his lifeless body to my chest and holding him, sobbing and yelling and cursing the world for taking him away from me.


End file.
